


Stay

by Verkaiking



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, OQ Happy Ending Week, Outlaw Queen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 12:39:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15243570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verkaiking/pseuds/Verkaiking
Summary: For Day 2 of Happy Ending Week - Missing Year.





	Stay

Regina never thought her life would amount to this.

She’s alive, sure, but alive in a broken land, part of a myriad of strangers who’ve never truly known her, of a family torn apart by a cruel twist of fate.

Snow’s had her baby, and she and David rejoice in their second chance at parenthood while the Wicked Witch sits in a cell in the castle dungeons, stripped from her magic and no longer posing a danger to anyone.

And Regina, well, she’s alright, she supposes. The cracks in her heart have mended somewhat, thanks to the contagious laughter of an adorable dimpled child and his equally charming father.

It’s been a hard journey. She and Robin didn’t get off to the best of starts, and to this day they bicker constantly during meetings, keeping everyone else oblivious to the nights they spend tangled up in each other, whispering words of affection that Regina would die before admitting out loud to anyone but him. He’s a comfort, and a strong partner to lean on, someone who supports her without judging her, without seeking to change her. Someone who believes in her and shows it. Someone who lo— cares. Someone who _cares_ for her.

Still, she refuses to open her heart to him, to accept that there are feelings between them. She indulges in them, but doesn’t give them a name, doesn’t dwell on them, doesn’t let his affections take root inside her broken soul. Or so she tells herself.

Because despite the many good things brought by their journey back to the Enchanted Forest, she can never be happy. There is still a hole in her heart that will never mend.

Today is Henry’s birthday, and he doesn’t remember her. He’s in New York somewhere, having the time of his life, unaware that there’s a queen in a hidden realm crying for his absence.

It hurts. So much. She doesn’t know how the Charmings can be so happy with their new baby knowing that their first daughter, the hero whose love they earned and reveled in, no longer knows who they are or remembers the many adventures they’ve had together. No new child can erase that pain, and sometimes it angers her that Snow seems intent on proving the contrary.

It’s her way of coping, Regina supposes. Taking care of a baby hardly leaves time to think; it must be easier to deal with the hurt when you don’t have much of a chance to dwell on it.

A tentative hand rubs up and down her naked back, and Regina sighs, leans back just a bit, just enough to let him know the contact is welcome.

“Trouble sleeping again, milady?” he asks, his voice deliciously raspy in the stillness of the night.

She’s been sitting up in bed, topless with her knees drawn up under the velvet covers, her arms wrapped around them as she stares blankly at the wall. Just as she has been for several nights in the last few weeks.

At her nod, he prods, “Would you like to talk about it?” and she’s shaking her head vigorously before he’s even done asking.

“You miss him, don’t you?” he presses on, sitting up beside her and waiting for her. Patient. He’s always so patient with her, so... soothing.

Regina nods wordlessly, and feels his arms wrap around her from the side, her head lowering until her chin digs slightly into his forearm, and a lone tear makes its way down her face and onto his skin. He tightens his hold on her at that, peppering gentle kisses on her shoulder and temple and holding her until sadness gives way to slumber.

When she wakes, her bed is cold, and she’s alone and miserable again. It’s part of their agreement; he’s not to stay the night. Ever. It’s easier this way, hurts less. Keeps her on her toes and reminds her that this thing between them can never grow, can never be, no matter what the tattoo on his arm says.

* * *

“I have something to give you,” he whispers two weeks later, when he’s hovering above her naked form and leaning down to kiss and kiss every inch of skin he can reach. She loves how thorough he is, loves that even after they’ve both reached their high and are boneless and exhausted in bed, he seeks to touch her, kiss her, feel her, just as he’s doing now, his hands grasping hers above her head on the mattress as he trails little pecks down her neck and back up.

“Do you, now?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows up at him and smirking. She’s still a little breathless from their activities, still recovering from the delicious bliss of orgasm, but she won’t say no to another one.

He grins, amused. “No, not that. At least, not for a few more minutes,” he quips, and then moves off of her, wrapping a sheet around his waist as he stands and moves to her dresser. He pulls something out of the drawer he’s wordlessly claimed for himself (Regina keeps telling herself to protest that, but never seems to find the words to do it), then walks back to her with a giddy look on his face.

He presents her with a tiny bundle of cloth that Regina recognizes as part of his tunic, and she gives him a confused stare.

“You’re giving me part of your shirt?” she asks, one eyebrow raised.

“Open it,” he urges simply, shaking his head with a smile and offering it to her.

It surprises her that there’d be something inside such a small, crumpled rag, but she follows his instruction, opens the tiny bundle with hesitant fingers and finds a piece of what appears to be some form of iridescent glass. Round and smooth on one end and rough and jagged on the other, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand, and it takes her a moment, but she gasps when she realizes what it is.

“Where did you get this?” she whispers, fearing that speaking louder will make the thing disappear.

“Thief,” Robin replies with a shrug when her eyes land on him. “You can get almost anything you want if you know where to look.”

“You stole it?!”

“No,” he assures her, “but I got it from a man I met during my days as a thief. He collected rare magical artifacts. He liked to study them, you see, pull them apart and figure out how they worked. When my wife was sick, I sought his help before I went to the Dark One. He was a kind man, though a bit of a hermit, we’ve remained acquaintances ever since.”

“But... but magic beans were destroyed, none can ever grow again. How...?” she trails off, baffled, looking back down at the piece of miracle in her hand.

“This is from before,” he explains, and he doesn’t say before what exactly, but Regina knows what he means. Before the curse. Before she devastated this land in search for revenge. “He brought it from another realm long before your curse hit. He said it would help you.”

“Help me what?” Regina questions, still shocked by the magical object in her hand.

“To find your son. I know you need a complete bean to travel between realms, but he said that with your magic, you could use this half to... to see him, somehow.”

“Robin, this is too much, I can’t accept it, I—” she starts to make excuses, but he cuts her off with a kiss, chaste and long and soft, sweet enough to stun her into silence even after he pulls away.

“I want you to have it,” he tells her.

“All magic comes with a price,” Regina warns him.

“I’ve already paid it,” Robin says. “But don’t tell my men I squandered half our gold on a broken bean.”

She gives a humorless laugh at that, and he lets out a slight chuckle at his own joke, then moves in closer and finds her eyes with his.

“It’s just gold, Regina, I can get more of that anywhere, but this, this is special. And it’s my gift to you,” he tells her. “I want you to find your boy, watch him grow and enjoy the life you gave him, let that soothe the ache that eats at you so viciously.”

She’s crying now. She has never let him see her cry. Maybe an occasional traitorous tear here and there, but she’s never let him see her like this, weak and overwhelmed, her soul ripping itself apart as grief and hope battle for dominance. But she can’t bring herself to care right now, not when he’s presenting her with such a gift.

“Will you... will you be there when I do it?” she asks him, hating the vulnerability in her tone, but his answer is immediate, a shocked-but-instant _Of course, anything you need_ that makes her belly tingle as his voice softens over the words, his hand cradling her face as his thumb rubs away some of the moisture from her tear-streaked cheeks.

It astounds her that he’s deemed her worthy of such a gift, that he’s gone to these lengths to make sure she can have a bit of comfort through her pain.

They waste no time, donning their clothes and hurrying to the main hall inside her chambers. Her mirror stands alone in the empty corridor, imposing as ever with its twisting, snake-like vines and untold powers. Regina takes a deep breath, summoning her strength as she crushes the piece of magic bean in her hand, then throws the dust at the mirror, watching as its smokey depths begin to swirl and sputter, a mini portal forming where the reflective surface once was.

“Show me Henry,” she commands.

“I can only hold the connection between realms for a few moments at a time, my queen,” her mirror replies, his voice bored and uninterested. “Once it fades, it’ll be a few days before I can find it again.”

“I don’t care,” Regina says. “Show me my son.”

“Your wish is my command,” Sidney says dully, and she knows that if his face were showing on the glass right now, he’d be rolling his eyes at her, something that would surely earn him a punishment.

But right now, Regina couldn’t care less.

The smoke dissipates, the swirling stops, and there, real and clear as day, is her baby boy.

He’s asleep, of course, given the late hour, but she can see a math workbook on his night table, open to a page full of fractions that he seems to have finished just before bed. His room is nice, clean, a few toys and items of clothing scattered about, but organized for the most part. He looks... peaceful. Beautiful. And Regina feels her heart breaking all over again.

She misses him so much, itches to reach through this little window created in her mirror and feel the peach fuzz on his cheeks, the silky softness of his hair...

“Hi, Henry,” she says brokenly, her hand hovering over the mirror as tears build and fall again.

Robin stands wordlessly by her side, giving her shoulder a little squeeze as they watch him together.

The tears have stopped by the time the image in the mirror begins to fade, a sense of calm settling in her as she catches her last few glimpses of Henry before he’s gone again.

She’ll see him again in a few days, she reminds herself. The mirror will open the portal again in just a few days, once he’s recovered from the strain of this magical connection.

She turns to Robin then, grasp one of his hands in each of hers, and sighs deeply.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “This is... thank you.”

He smiles, looking very proud of himself as he leans in and kisses her.

“I’ll see you in the morning, milady,” he teases before pulling away from her.

But he’s just given her the most precious gift, and she doesn’t want to stick to her stupid rules tonight.

“No,” she calls back to him, stopping him in his tracks. “Stay.”

He turns around, hesitating a bit. “Are you sure? You don’t have t—”

“I’m sure,” she cuts him off. “Stay.”

That night, she falls asleep to the steady rhythm of his breathing and the soft caresses of his hand over her bare skin, her whole body relaxing under his touch.

And when the sun rises to bathe them in the warmth of a new day, and he wakes her with a line of kisses along her back and a sweet, raspy _Good morning_ , Regina decides that maybe, opening her heart to a thief might not be such a bad idea after all.


End file.
